


The Reese's Effect

by KatsukiSin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Aspec Friendly, Bad Parenting, Baha'i Faith, Cas is a Baha'i, F/M, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Not Beta Read, Psychology, Science Experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatsukiSin/pseuds/KatsukiSin
Summary: “You see that guy over there?” Meg pointed at Castiel.“What about him?”Meg smirked. “I’m gonna make him fall in love with me.”
Relationships: Castiel/Meg Masters, Charlie Bradbury & Meg Masters, Meg Masters & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	The Reese's Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: brief, non descriptive memory of a moment of animal brutality. I don't think it's really bad enough for a warning, but just in case.

_Classical conditioning: a learning process that occurs when two stimuli are repeatedly paired; a response which is at first elicited by an unconditioned stimulus is eventually elicited by a previously neutral stimulus._

Meg glanced over her psychology notes with uncharacteristic interest. Classical conditioning had been the topic of discussion for over a week now, and an idea had been forming in the back of her mind since then. 

A french fry smacked into her face, and Meg glared indignantly in the direction it had flown from. 

Dean Winchester smirked at her from across the table. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people?”

“I’m _studying.”_ Meg scowled. 

“I don’t know why,” a different voice spoke up. The voice belonged to a red-head with long hair and a _Doctor Who_ shirt-- Charlie Bradbury. “You do the bare minimum to keep your grades up.”

Meg leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in exasperation. “Because the subject matter isn’t completely _useless_ for once.”

From her right, Jody Mills leaned close to get a look at Meg’s notes. “Classical conditioning?” She read before raising a skeptical brow.

“You actually took notes?” Charlie asked. 

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Meg said. Then, she looked down at them, pointedly ignoring everyone else at the lunch table. 

All the people whose existence she was capable of tolerating (otherwise known as her friends) were gathered here. Charlie sat to Meg’s left, then Sam Winchester, Dean, Anna Milton, Balthazar Shirley, and finally, Jody Mills. 

“Oh, please. Name one way you could use classical conditioning in real life,” Dean challenged smugly.

“I can think of a few…” Balthazar started, before everyone at the table collectively shut him down. A teacher standing near the door gave the table an unnoticed frown at the brief surge of noise. 

“Can we please keep this conversation suitable for general audiences?” Sam cringed.

Balthazar scoffed, muttering an unrepeatable name at the Winchester.

The conversation lulled, allowing Meg to turn back to her psychology notes. 

“Hey! You’re gonna prove to me that classical conditioning is useful, or else you’re going to admit defeat.” Dean said when he noticed that Meg had stopped paying attention. 

“If I do, will you leave me alone?” 

Dean considered it. “Maybe.”

Meg scowled again, but her eyes drifted around the cafeteria as she thought. 

Her eyes settled on a table in the middle of the lunch room. There were three people there: a blonde girl with her hair in a messy ponytail, a guy with brown hair, and a second guy, this one with stark black hair. Meg clicked her tongue, deliberating. She didn’t know the blonde, although she was fairly certain her name began with a ‘D,’ and that she was often hanging around Gabriel. Gabriel Novak was the brunette; Meg hadn’t met him, but the guy exuded enough chaotic energy that it was a surprise he hadn’t become a part of her friend group yet. The last one at the table was Castiel Novak, Gabriel’s brother, and he was the one who finally solidified the idea she had been brewing for the last week. 

“You see that guy over there?” Meg pointed at Castiel.

Dean turned, and he frowned when he saw who she was pointing out.

“What about him?”

Meg smirked. “I’m gonna make him fall in love with me.”

Beside her, Jody made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. 

Meg glanced at her. “Problem?”

“I have no problem looking the other way when you’re targeting people who deserve it, but Castiel isn’t one of them. He’s never done you wrong.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar spoke up. “You’re going to make the goody two shoes preacher’s son fall in love with _you?_ Somehow, I doubt that insensitive, sarcastic punk is his type.” 

“Watch and learn, freakshow.” 

Balthazar scowled, but Meg turned to Anna before he could retort. “I’m gonna need a favor.”

Anna regarded Meg curiously. “And what would that be?”

“I need you to find out what his favorite candy is.”

Anna scoffed; she had been hoping for something less vapid. “No.”

“You _owe_ me, princess.”

“I asked you to cover for me one time--”

“Yeah, and I covered your ass so you could sneak over to your boyfriend's house, so you owe me one. That’s how it works. So are you gonna suck it up and do me a favor, or do I have to tell your parents where you really are on Friday nights?”

Anna groaned. “Fine, I’ll do it. But I’m not happy about it.”

Meg didn’t deign Anna with a response. Instead, she looked across the lunchroom, toward Castiel, with a mischievous smile. 

Xxx

As the concept of classical conditioning was expanded upon more and more in her psychology class, Meg realized that conditioning someone to fall in love with her might have been a bit more complicated than she had originally thought. 

Still, Meg had said she was going to do it, so now she had to. No way was she going to give anyone, especially Dean Winchester, the satisfaction of seeing her give up. 

And so, Meg was in the hallway, with a pocketful of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in her pocket and a random boy’s class schedule memorized in her mind. 

Meg had taken the time to make sure that she didn’t have any classes with the boy, Castiel, and to memorize where his locker was. Meg needed to ensure that her interactions with Castiel were limited and strictly controlled, so she couldn’t have him strolling up to her in her classes or at her locker. 

He was at his locker now, grabbing books for his next class, which Meg knew to be Woodland Ecology. Meg paused a moment, studying him before she made her approach. 

She had never met Castiel, but she had seen him once before. 

She had been standing in line as she waited to order coffee for her friends, cursing herself for picking the proverbial shortest straw and being stuck with the menial task. Meg had been absently staring out the window, but the sound of laughter had quickly caught her attention. The sound had been distant, like it hadn’t even come from the cafe she had been waiting in, but something about the tone of it had put her on guard. Abandoning her spot in line, she had left the cafe and listened attentively. The laughter sounded again, and Meg realized what it was that had put her off: it wasn’t the delightful laughter that was exchanged between friends. It was harsh and smug, the sound that asshole teenagers made when they were up to no good. Meg had followed it, not having anything better to do. 

Meg had found a dark haired boy, who she would later learn was named Castiel, cornered by a couple jocks. There was something cupped in his hands, she had noticed from her spot hidden in the shadows. The dark haired boy said something about not wanting trouble, but he really needed to get through. It was important, he said. The jocks had laughed. One of them dragged Castiel closer by the collar, before grabbing one of his wrists and wrenching it painfully behind his back. The thing in Castiel’s hands dropped, hard. Meg had just enough time to realize that it was a baby bird, and that its wings were twisted unnaturally, before another jock stepped forward and brought his foot down on top of it. The jocks sneered at Castiel when he cried out in horror, using his free hand to cover his eyes pitifully.

Meg had stayed in the shadows, watching the scene play out with a cold sort of anger filling her. But she didn’t move forward to intervene. Instead, she went silently back to the park, where her friends were waiting. They immediately noticed that something was wrong, and Meg had told them what had happened, seething. Her friends had instantly agreed to go to the dark haired boy’s aid, but when they arrived, the only sign that anything nefarious had happened was a blood stain and a few loose feathers on the ground. Meg hadn’t known who the dark haired boy was at the time, but she was more than familiar with the jocks, and had played vicious pranks on them for a long time afterward. 

  
  


When Meg had looked around the lunch room, looking for a good subject for her science experiment, her eyes had settled on him. Something about him had called to her, but she hadn’t known what it was. After lunch, when she’d had time to think about it, that moment with the injured bird had suddenly returned to her memory. 

Meg looked at the guy now, digging around in his locker, and hesitated. Romance had never seemed like a big deal to her, so tricking someone into falling into unrequited love with her hadn’t seemed like such a cruel idea when she first thought of it. Maybe this wasn’t the kind of thing she should be doing. 

But, it wasn’t like there was a one hundred percent chance of her theory working, anyway. She was definitely overthinking things. Besides, she wanted to see how her experiment would go down. 

So she moved forward, just as he closed his locker door and started moving down the hall. Castiel jumped as he turned directly into her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he murmured as he tried to move around her.

“It’s fine.” Meg smiled, before pulling a Reese’s out of her pocket. “Want one?” 

Castiel paused. His eyes widened visibly as he looked at the candy in her hand. She could see him deliberating, his eyes flicking to hers like he was trying to figure out if she was joking. Or if she was tricking him. “No…”

Meg smirked, placing the candy on top of the books in his hand and walking away. 

“Hey, wait!” Castiel called after her.

She didn’t.

Xxx

_The Partial Reinforcement Effect: a response that is reinforced on an unfixed, or variable, schedule will tend to be stronger and last longer than if the response were reinforced continuously._

Meg stopped Castiel in the hall again two days later. She had Peanut Butter Cups in her pocket, and in her backpack as well, but she didn’t intend to give any to the boy today. If she gave him a piece of candy every single time he saw her, then when she finally stopped giving him candy, he would quickly lose hope in the inevitability of him getting candy when he saw her. That was her master plan: get Castiel to unconsciously link her with his favorite candy, so that he would get unreasonably happy whenever he saw her. Meg would _occasionally_ give him a Reese’s, that way the desired response of happiness would continue even after Meg had stopped giving Castiel candy, because Castiel would still unconsciously hold onto the hope that he _might_ get candy when he saw her. 

“Heya, stranger.” 

Castiel stopped. He looked at her for a second with narrowed eyes, but then they widened in recognition. “Oh, it’s you!”

Castiel’s gaze instantly flicked down to her pocket, where she had taken out a Reese’s in their last meeting. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smirking-- this was going better than she had thought. 

“I didn’t get to say thank you the other day.” Castiel continued.

“The phrase is overused anyway.”

Castiel quirked a brow at that. “I suppose it is. Is that really a bad thing, though?”

“It is if it takes away the meaning. You got a name?”

“Oh!” Castiel shifted his books into one arm, before extending his free hand. “I’m Castiel.”

“Yeah…” Meg glanced down at the proffered hand. Handshakes weren’t really her thing, but being completely standoffish wasn’t likely to help her experiment along…

Sighing internally, Meg shook his hand. “Your dad is a preacher. I’m guessing your name is biblical?”

Castiel flashed her an embarrassed smile that was closer to a grimace. “He named me and my brother after his favorite angels, actually.”

“Ok, Clarence.” Meg snorted.

The boy stared at her uncomprehendingly. 

“ _It’s A Wonderful Life?”_ Meg tried.

“Life can be wonderful at times, yes,” Castiel said with uncertainty, like he wasn’t sure what that had to do with the conversation. 

“That’s not…” Meg’s voice trailed off as she realized explaining herself would be too much effort. “Have fun in Wood Ec, Clarence.” 

“How did you know…?” Castiel started, but Meg was already walking away. “I didn’t even get your name!” He called when she didn’t turn.

Meg wasn’t an expert at romance, but she did know that rom-coms featured mysterious strangers for a reason.

Xxx

_Confounding Variables: any unaccounted-for factor in an experiment that may skew, or confound, the results._

During the next week, Meg walked up to Cas three more times and gave him a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup once. She was careful to keep their conversations short, not wanting to run the risk of introducing any confounding variables to her experiment. 

_‘Confounding variables,’_ Meg thought with a scoff. Her grade in psychology was currently a D, but it wasn’t because she didn’t understand the material. Her problem was that homework was a symptom of the disgusting bias and privilege in America’s school systems. When teachers assigned homework, they assumed that students had the resources at home to look up answers, and the time and mental health required to complete it. It was pathetic, and she refused to feed into it. She had a similar stance on tests, and her grades suffered quite a bit for it. Not that she cared at all-- school was meant to be a place of learning, not competing and cramming for the sake of a letter.

Meg encountered Castiel in the halls once more. She was pleased to note that he grinned when he saw her, an unmistakable light shining in his eyes. “Meg,” he said in greeting.

She raised a brow. “You’ve done some digging.” Meg had yet to reveal her name to him, so Castiel must have done something to find out on his own. 

The boy looked down at his clothes with a frown. “No? Is there dirt on my clothes?”

Meg chuckled. “No, your clothes are fine. My bad, Clarence.” Her fingers wrapped around the Peanut Butter Cup in her pocket, but it was too late. The conversation had already started; too much time had passed since Castiel had first noticed her, meaning that if she gave him the candy now, it wouldn’t be reinforcing the behaviour she wanted. 

She shook herself out of her thoughts, only to notice that Castiel was giving her an odd look.

“What?”

“You have a nice laugh,” Castiel said simply.

Meg blinked. “If you say so.” 

“I do say so.” 

Meg snorted, feeling the corners of her lips tug upwards. “Whatever, dork.” She glanced at the textbook and notebooks cradled in his arms. “How’s Wood Ec going?”

“It’s highly interesting. I’ve enjoyed the material so far, but…” 

“But?” Meg prompted when he didn’t continue. 

Meg narrowed her gaze when Castiel bit his lip. “We’re going over waterfowl now. I love birds, so it should be a blessing. It’s not, though. I’m having some trouble concentrating in the class.”

Meg winced, something in her gaze softening as she remembered that cruel scene with the jocks. Cas fidgeted under her gaze before clearing his throat. “Speaking of, I should probably be on my way. I don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll walk you.”

Castiel did a double take, looking at her in surprise. “You will?”

“Uh.” Meg was just as unnerved as he, the words having left her mouth without her even thinking about them. “Yeah. I mean, why not.”

“Alright.” Castiel said. “I’d like that.”

Xxx

  
  


Meg stumbled upon Castiel again, this time by accident. 

She was going on a walk through town with a few friends: Charlie, Sam, and Dean. 

Dean was going on a never ending rant about cars that Meg wasn’t paying the slightest attention to when Charlie frantically started hitting Meg in the arm. 

“Look! Look, look, look!” The red-head gasped, gesturing frantically with her free hand. 

Meg was just about to ask what her malfunction was when Sam laughed softly. 

“Is that Castiel?” He asked, trying and failing to hide a grin.

Meg glared at the two before turning to follow their gazes. Castiel and his brother Gabriel were standing outside of a jokes and pranks shop across the street, Gabriel trying to enter the establishment while Castiel desperately tried pulling his arm to keep him away from the threshold. 

“What do you think’s going on over there?” Sam asked. 

“Has he fallen in love with you yet?” 

Meg huffed at the smug tone in the elder Winchester’s voice. “These things take time, Romeo.”

“Or maybe someone isn’t up for the challenge.”

Meg raised her eyebrow. “If you think you can do a better job, you’re welcome to try.”

Dean blinked, before breaking out in a grin. “Alright. You got me.” The Winchester paused. “He’s not too bad looking, actually.”

“Noooo!” Charlie whined. “You can’t! I’ve got too much money bet on them becoming a couple!”

Meg’s eyes fluttered closed, and she forced herself to take a deep breath in before turning to Charlie. “You’re placing bets on whether or not he’ll fall in love with me?”

“Noo, I’m placing bets on whether or not you’ll fall in love _with each other.”_ Charlie smiled. “I totally ship it.” Charlie gasped again, her hands flailing. “What do you think the ship name will be!?!”

“Cag?” Dean suggested.

“How about Megstiel?” Sam smirked. 

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Yes! Definitely!” She pointed at Sam. “Absolutely!”

Meg scowled at them. “You’re all immature. And imbeciles. You’re immature imbeciles.”

“Look who’s walking across the street,” Dean said, looking over Meg’s shoulder. 

Charlie’s gaze flicked between the two Winchesters. “ _Guys._ We have that thing to do! And we forgot about it!”

“Don’t you dare!” Meg hissed, knowing exactly what Charlie was doing.

“Yeah,” Dean drawled. “That _thing._ That very important, unspecific _thing.”_

“We better get on it,” Sam said, while the three of them not-so-subtly shifted away from her. 

“I _swear--”_ Meg started.

“Gotta go, byeeee!” Charlie grinned. 

Meg glared after them, fuming. She could try to follow them, but they were all stubborn bastards who had their minds set on ditching her, so it wasn’t like it would do her any good. When had her experiment with Castiel gone from her way of getting back at Dean to something they could hold use against her? How friggin frustrating. 

“Hello, Meg,” a voice said from behind her.

“Hey,” Meg said. Cas gave a small smile as they locked eyes, so she put her hand in her pocket for a Peanut Butter Cup. She had been carrying them around everywhere, just in case she had bumped into him accidentally. Not that Meg had been _hoping_ to bump into him, of course. She held out the candy in offering. 

“You have my gratuity,” he said as he took the proffered candy. 

“I’m sorry?”

Castiel unwrapped the candy before splitting it in half. “You said ‘thank you’ was overused, that it had lost its meaning.” Cas handed her half the Reese’s cup. “Therefore, you have my gratuity.”

Meg stared between Cas and the candy in her hand. “I gave this to you,” she said, almost uncomprehendingly. “It’s _yours.”_

“What’s the point in eating candy alone? It’s far more enheartening to share it with a friend.”

_‘Friend?’_ Meg thought. She should probably be disappointed-- he was supposed to be falling for her romantically, not platonically. Still, at least it was evidence that Castiel was coming to care about her. Meg distracted herself with the candy in her hand when she realized that the thought of Cas caring about her at all made something in her stomach flutter. She hesitantly raised the Reese’s Cup to her mouth. Truth be told, she didn’t even like the candy, but she couldn’t bring herself to say no to him.

Xxx

Meg walked through town, her breaths catching in her throat. 

She had no idea why she was still freaking out. It happened two days ago! Meg had spent yesterday hanging out with her friends, having no problems with letting them distract her. And they hadn’t just distracted her, they had… they had supported her. And it had worked, up until she woke up this morning. Now she was just all over the place again. 

It was so stupid. _She_ was so stupid. It was just one stupid comment from her parents, but now she was drowning. It wasn’t even that bad-- Meg had survived worse things, and two days had passed already. She should be _fine,_ but she had taken one look at the glares from her parents, and something in her had snapped. Again. 

God, she didn’t want to be alone right now. Being alone meant you had nothing to do but think, and thinking _sucked._ But her friend group thought that she was okay, that she was over it already. They had sacrificed a whole day just to make her feel better, and Meg couldn’t bring herself to tell them that it had already failed. She couldn’t burden them like that.

So now she was walking. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and she didn’t know where she was going. She just needed to keep moving. 

Eventually, Meg found herself looking up at a church. She looked up at the stained glass windows, the lights from inside painting the grass and sidewalk in a kaleidoscope of color, and she looked at the name of the church on the sign hanging neatly above the door, and she knew that this was where Castiel’s dad preached. The thought surprised her, but not as much as the fact that she walked through the doors of a baptist church on a Sunday night without someone dragging her there kicking and screaming. 

But Meg walked through those doors. Meg didn’t even know why, not until she saw Cas sitting alone on a pew, staring vacantly up at the empty pulpit. The room was practically empty, so the service probably hadn’t started yet. Meg was almost disappointed; it would have been such a thrill to bring about the chaos of an interrupted sermon. At least, it would have been a thrill, if the idea of so many eyes turning toward her, _glaring at her,_ didn’t put her on edge. 

When Meg sat down beside him, Castiel’s gaze slipped unseeingly over her before he did a double take. 

“Meg?” He whispered. He had noticed something was wrong. Meg could hear it in his voice. 

Meg tried to smile at him, but she could feel that it came out more like a grimace. “Heya, Clarence.”

Cas looked her up and down, his frown deepening before he seemed to come to a decision. He stood up, extending a hand to her. “Come with me.”

Meg did. She followed him, even though she felt dazed. He didn’t lead her far away. Just a few minutes walk to some shed or garage on the church grounds. Castiel looked around as though to make sure no one was watching, before opening a door and ushering her inside. She blinked, eyes trying to adjust to the pitch darkness inside, but Castiel walked around the space lighting candles and tealights as he went. 

There was a rolled up carpet along the far wall, and Castiel sat down on it before looking up at her with sad eyes. “This is where I go when I’m feeling upset.”

“You hang out in a sleazy shed?” Meg sat down beside him. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she focused on breathing normally instead.

“I know. It would appear that my life is far more exciting than I led you to believe.”

Meg tried to chuckle at the sarcasm, but she didn’t even make a sound. 

“Hey,” Cas said, bumping his shoulder against hers. “What’s wrong?”

Meg almost shrugged him off. There was a voice in her head telling her that this whole thing was a mistake, that she should leave and never come back, just stand up and walk and walk and keep going until everything just… stopped. 

But, honestly? Meg had the feeling that if she kept it in any longer, she might obey that voice in her head, or worse.

So Meg forced herself to open her mouth and tell Cas why she was upset. By the time she was done, she was ranting angrily, taking harsh breaths that came just a little too close. 

Cas asked her small questions from time to time, but other than that, he sat silent and attentive as Meg talked.

“This is likely the part where I’m meant to say something deeply encouraging,” Castiel said softly after Meg had finished.

Meg waited for him to continue, but the boy just stared at her with his head canted. “But?” She prompted.

Cas smiled ruefully, shrugging his shoulders. Despite herself, Meg felt a tug at the corner of her lips. If she was being honest, she was relieved that Castiel was at a loss for words; she wasn’t here to beg or snivel for advice, and she didn’t want someone to try to fix her, she just wanted someone to _listen._ An emotional pep talk was way outside of her comfort zone, and if Cas had tried it, she might have shut down completely. 

“That’s good. I hate men who talk too much. They never have anything to say.”

Cas nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”

Silence settled between them for a bit. It wasn’t tense-- it was actually quite companionable, but as Meg sat there, she realized that there was one more thing that had been on her chest for a long time now. As long as she was going to be spilling classified secrets, she might as well get it out now. 

“Do you remember how we met?” She asked.

Castiel snorted softly. The sound made Meg smile-- the first time she had smiled all day. “Yes, I do. You gave me a Reese’s.”

“Do you know why?”

Cas canted his head at her, confused.

Meg took a deep breath. Then, she told Castiel about learning classical conditioning in psychology, about Dean annoying her in the lunchroom, about her eyes landing on Cas and why she had given him that Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

Castiel gave Meg a look. His eyes weren’t filled with outrage, indignance, or anything of the sort; instead, they were dancing with mirth and amusement as he chuckled softly. “Glad to know that I’m a joke to you.” He teased.

“You were never a joke to me.” It came out way too serious and sappy for Meg’s liking, so she quickly amended: “You were a science experiment.”

“Did your experiment work?” Cas asked curiously. 

“I don’t know. It didn’t quite go to plan.”

“What happened?” Castiel leaned closer in anticipation.

Meg raised her brows, leaning in toward him as well. “You shared your goddamn Reese’s with me,” she whispered. 

“Yes, well. It’ll be a good story to tell the grandchildren one day.”

Meg leaned away and looked at him with a small frown.

Cas immediately stiffened, his face going blank. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Nah. I just… didn’t take you for the grandkids type.”

“Actually…” Castied paused, his expression pinching as he deliberated. After a few moments he took a deep breath and continued. “...I’m asexual.” He watched her face closely, as though searching for the slightest sign that Meg would have an adverse reaction.

“Huh. So you’ve got your own personal shed/clubhouse, and you’re asexual? Any other bombshell secrets you’ve been keeping from me?”

Cas seemed to relax at the playful tone in her voice. He hummed in thought, his eyes wandering the candle-lit room as he considered the question. “I’m a Baha’i. Does that count?”

“Like the guy from _The Office_?” Meg frowned.

“The guy from…” Cas muttered uncomprehendingly. Then recognition flashed in his eyes. “Oh! You mean Rainn Wilson. Yes, he’s in the Baha’i Faith, but I don’t know a lot about him. I haven’t seen the show.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re so uncultured it’s actually depressing.”

Castiel huffed in exasperation, but there was a smile ghosting his lips.

“The Baha’i thing _is_ a surprise though. The perfect preacher’s son is a heathen? What hath the world become?”

“Yeah… my dad wasn’t very happy when he found out. It’s not… it’s…” Castiel looked away.

Meg immediately sat up straight. He seemed to be struggling for words, which meant whatever he was about to say was very important to him. This also meant that Meg was supposed to be perfect and supportive or whatever, and Meg _was not_ good with huggy-feely crap or people expecting things from her.

_‘I could just get up and walk away. There’s not a single thing in the world that can stop me.’_

The thought was there, in the back of her head as Cas struggled silently. A part of her didn’t understand why she hadn’t already bolted from the room. But another part of her was curious what Castiel had to say. And he had already heard Meg pour her frustrations out on him-- she wasn’t going to be left in his debt. At least, that’s how Meg chose to interpret the apprehension that weighed heavily in her gut at the idea of leaving him alone in the dim room.

“It’s not like he’s been cruel about it,” Castiel finally continued, his voice soft. “He hasn’t told me I’m going to Hell for my beliefs or anything like that. But I can see it in the way he looks at me, like he’s failed me. Like I’ve failed him, too. I’m not supposed to pray in public, or talk about it, and I still go to church and listen to his sermons every Sunday. I was originally going to tell him I’m queer, too, but after… well, Gabriel and I both decided it was best we kept our identities to ourselves.”

“Parents suck.”

Meg said it with only a touch of bitterness, like it was an inevitable fact that she had already accepted the hard way. 

Castiel visibly swallowed, looking put off. “I still have faith that Dad will come around in time, but… yeah. Parents do ‘suck.’”

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Meg leaned back against the wall, watching how the candles flickered in the room. It was peaceful at first, but as she continued to watch, she suddenly hated how fragile those small flames looked.

“Who do you pray to?” Meg asked, turning back to Castiel.

“God.” Castiel said simply.

“Yeah, but which one?”

“All of them. None of them. It’s complicated.”

Meg huffed. “Well, now you _have_ to explain it.”

“Being a Baha’i is complicated. When people think of religion, they think of a group of people all following the same strict rulebook. The Baha’i faith is more about individual truth, though. The beautiful thing about the Baha’i Faith is that it doesn’t condemn all other religious beliefs as being wrong. All the different religions are like chapters of the same book, getting more and more developed toward the same universal truths. Allah, God, Loki, Poseidon-- it doesn’t matter what name you use, you’re praying for the same truth: unity, love, and peace amongst humanity.”

“So God isn’t a person, so much as a concept?”

Castiel smiled. “If that’s how you choose to interpret it, yes.”

“Huh. Never heard of anything like that before. It sounds really… accepting.”

“What do you believe in?” Castiel questioned. His eyes were alight with curiosity.

“Myself,” Meg said after a moments pause. “My friends. My cause.”

“Your cause?”

“Yeah. You know, a cause-- a reason for getting out of bed in the morning, for knowing when to bite your tongue and when to scream your lungs out, your reason to keep on fighting.”

Castiel hummed absently. Meg waited for him to speak, probably to ask what her cause was, but he just kept looking at her with a thoughtful countenance. Meg tried not to stiffen-- what the Hell was he playing at? She was just about to scowl at him when he finally responded. “I like that,” he said softly. “It suits you.”

“It’s taken me awhile to find it. But I think my cause is just… existence. Being able to exist on my own terms, making sure others get the same right. We’re conditioned to just sit down, shut up, and take what we’re given. I can’t stand that, though. You get harrassed for being who you are, and that’s just if you're lucky. A lot of people die for it. It’s _sick,_ and I don’t want any part of it. So if the dumbass system says that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, that you have to kill or be killed, then it’s time to act with some _compassion,_ you know? It’s the truest form of rebellion, so I do what I can.”

“That’s strikingly noble, if one is able to look past the sarcasm that coats your compassion.”

“I guess so.” Meg cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable with how serious the conversation had gotten, and with how much if seemed to revolve around her. Time to backtrack. “So what’s Gabriel’s secret identity, then? You said he was also hiding from your dad earlier, not just you.”

“He’s a pagan. And he’s pansexual.”

“Is he dating that blond chick?”  
  


“Donna? No. They’re in a queerplatonic relationship.” Castiel looked at her expectantly. 

“Really? Good for them.” 

Cas frowned. “You know what a QPR is?”

Meg smirked. “Yep. You know Sam Winchester? He’s a friend of mine; he’s demisexual, so I’m up to speed on aspec terminology.” 

“Oh.”

Meg laughed at the shock in his voice and expression. 

The corners of Castiel’s mouth turned up, as though Meg’s mirth was contagious, but his canted head and furrowed brows indicated that he probably wasn’t sure what exactly had just happened.

“Sorry. I know giving a full powerpoint presentation on everything aro/ace is the best part of the coming out experience; it was cruel of me to take that away from you,” Meg teased.

“I didn’t know Sam was demi. Admittedly, I was starting to think I would never come across someone like me.”

“I guess you guys are pretty rare. Like unicorns.” Meg tipped her head back against the wall, looking up at the flickering shadows on the ceiling. “I used to love unicorns. I always wanted one, when I was younger.”

“I could be your unicorn.”

Meg turned back to Castiel, snorting as she saw the completely serious look on his face. “That’s really sappy, you know.”

“I don’t know, I think it was sweetly poetic.”

“Too bad I don’t like poetry.”

“But you like me.”

Meg paused. This was the point where she would throw out another nonchalant witty remark. That’s what she was supposed to do, and she could feel a few weighing on her tongue, ready to fly free and shut Castiel down. But Meg wasn’t good with upholding what was expected of her.

“Yeah, I do.”

Another few moments of silence. Meg could see the candle light shining in Castiel's eyes, the orange and black dancing dangerously across his blue irises. The eyes were looking straight back at her, and she saw his tongue wet his lips in anticipation. 

“Hey, Clarence?”

“Hmm?”

“The Hell are you waiting for?”

Castiel’s eyes widened, but he managed to keep his composure. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want…”

Castiel’s voice trailed off as Meg put her hands on his shoulders and drew him closer in one fluid motion. She paused just before their lips touched. This close, Meg could feel his breaths caressing her face. There was a warmth, but Meg couldn’t tell if it was emanating from Cas or if it was just the electricity thrumming through her veins.

“Whatever you want, that’s what I want too,” Meg said, her voice low to mask her eagerness.

Cas nodded, shuddering pleasantly as Meg’s hands trailed down his arms. 

His eyes fluttered shut as he closed the gap between them, and Meg felt him smile into the kiss.

Truth be told, she smiled, too. 

Xxx

Not too long after, Meg sat in psychology, bored out of her mind. She loved the class, but the teacher was horrific. He would sit at the front of the classroom, always talking but never saying anything. Meg always tuned the guy out, learning from reading her textbook rather than from class time. 

Meg glanced down at the bottom of the page of her notebook, and despite the aggravating droning voice in the background, she smiled. The last bullet point of her notes read:

_The Reese’s Effect: when your test subject plays a goddamn Uno Reverse card and screws things up for the better._

  
  
  
  



End file.
